Conversations
by medicgirl
Summary: Johnny and Roy have some interesting conversations in the course of their job, some touching, some angry, some just plain weird...
1. Playing God

Disclaimer: These boys aren't mine, in fact, they were promoted to captain before I was even born.

"Paramedics are weird. Most of the time, the only one that can communicate with them is another medic" Medic 660, Clay county EMS

Roy DeSoto knew his partner was going to be angry, the question was just how angry he would be. The words the patient's husband had yelled at them infuriated him as well, but he knew his young partner let things get to him even more. He felt things deeper than most, and Roy knew he would be seething. The passenger door off the squad was ripped open violently, and John Gage flopped his skinny frame into the seat with the force of a 300 pound body-builder. Roy sighed as he pulled the squad out onto the road.

"Squad 51 clear," Johnny said into the radio, and clicked it back into place, turning back to stare out the window. Roy ticked the seconds off on his fingers as he counted. He knew it wouldn't be long before Johnny exploded and everything he had held inside when the man was screaming at him. On seven, it started. "Playing God, Roy! He said we were playing God. We saved his wife, and didn't even get an apology!"

Roy sighed again, knowing the words had hurt and angered his partner. Hell, they had hurt and angered _him_. "I know. But you know people…they'll say anything at the heat of the moment."

Johnny drew his mouth into a grim line. "People are stupid sometimes."

Roy looked over at him sharply. "Johnny!"

The younger man shrugged. "Well, they are! I mean, they call us for help, then act like children when we try to help! That woman was having a heart attack Roy! She would have died if we didn't do what we did! She would have died, and he's yelling at us to stop playing God and get her to a hospital." He took in a deep breath, spent.

Roy winced. He felt it too, and understood that Johnny needed to vent, but he had to help him gain a little perspective. "Yeah, Johnny, but you gotta look at it from his perspective. His wife, the most important person in his world, was very sick. She needed a hospital. Then there we were, playing around." Johnny opened his mouth to object to that, but his partner held up a hand to cut him off. "_I_ know we weren't playing around. _I_ know we saved her life. And when Dr. Brackett is done with that woman, her husband will know that too."

"You really think so?"

"Yeah."

They rode in silence for a few moment, each lost in separate but similar thoughts. Without looking back at Roy, Johnny conceded. "And I guess some of the things we were doing looked pretty scary. Needles and the monitor and stuff."

"Yeah." Sometimes it was best to just let Johnny work his way to the conclusion with minimal shoving.

Another few minutes of silence, and Johnny voiced the question that Roy had certainly not expected. "Would you have acted that way if it had been Joanne?"

"What? No!" Stopped at a red light, he looked over at his friend again. There was no crooked grin, he wasn't making fun of the "old married man", he just genuinely wanted to understand. "No, Johnny. I wouldn't. I understand what we do and why we do it, which is an advantage that last man didn't have. He thought we were just playing. But I don't think I would be able to be the one to do it. Don't get me wrong, I know it would have to be done. But I don't think I could start an IV in Jo, or God forbid defibrillate her. I would be as useless as that man back there was."

Johnny nodded. "If that ever happened, like you said, God forbid, you'd probably want Brice there, wouldn't you? I mean, as annoying as he is, you know he'd go by the book. He'd take good care of her."

Roy pulled into the station, but didn't get out of the squad. Instead, he put his hand on Johnny's arm. "You do know better than that, right?"

Johnny looked genuinely confused. "What do you mean?"

Roy looked his partner and best friend in the eye. "If Craig Brice comes anywhere near my wife with a defibrillator, I'll kill him with my bare hands. If anything ever happens to Jo…or Chris or Jen…or me, I want you to be the one to help us, you got that?"

Johnny's eyes widened. "What? Me? Roy, I…"

Roy nodded. "I trust you with my life every day. I know what you can do and I know that more importantly you would do everything in your power and even a few things that defy the laws of physics if necessary to protect me and my family. And I know that if you couldn't save them, it just couldn't be done. And I know that if you couldn't save them, it would hurt you as badly as it would me."

Johnny simply stared at him for a few seconds. "Roy, I-I don't know what to say…Man, that's…Are you putting me on?"

"Absolutely not. If anything ever happens to my family, you're the only one I trust with them. You got it?"

Johnny swallowed, trying to find words and hide the tears filling his eyes, and nodded. "Okay, Roy. Thank you. I won't let you down."

Roy smiled. "I know, Junior. Remember, I taught you everything you know!" With that, he was out of the squad before what he said sank in. A split second later, he heard Johnny shout, "Hey!"


	2. Scary Movies

"Most paramedics are just adolescents who learned their way around the who growing up thing." Medic 660, Clay County EMS

"Man, that was one really creepy movie, Roy," John Gage said to his partner. "Who picked that thing anyway?"

"Who do you think?" Roy DeSoto replied. He propped his feet up on the table in the dayroom and stretched.

Johnny sighed. "Chet. Why am I not surprised? And why do we let him pick the movies, anyway? We know he has terrible taste!" He got up and changed the channel as the closing credits rolled. "I mean, _The Creeping Flesh_? What was he thinking? Especially since they got called out right in the middle. He'll drive us nuts all night over missing the end."

"No one made you watch it, Johnny…"

The younger man shrugged. "What was I supposed to do? Go to the dorm and try to sleep listening to the screams?"

"The ones from the movie, or the ones from Chet?"

Johnny laughed. "That made the whole thing worth it! He came clean out of his chair. I didn't know Mike had it in him."

Roy chuckled. At a very suspenseful part of the movie, quiet, shy, Mike Stoker acted like he was going to the bathroom and instead doubled back and grabbed Chet from behind as he sat backward in the kitchen chair. Chet had squealed like a pig, and would have fallen out of the chair if Mike hadn't had a good hold on him. "Yeah, that was funny. Good to see someone get Chet for a change, huh?"

"You know it." He sat back down and looked at Roy. "You know what bugs me about movies like that? It seems like people are so stupid in them. I mean, they always want to go to the basement or the roof, and go back in after their dog or not check the backseat."

This could be interesting. Roy smiled. "So what would you do if someone…or something…was after you?"

"If I was in a horror movie?" Johnny asked. His partner nodded, so he considered it. "Well, the first thing I'd do is get a weapon…maybe a shotgun or a really big knife. Or if I was here at the station probably a spanner wrench. Then I would back myself into a corner so that I could see everywhere and nothing could sneak up on me."

Roy shook his head. " No, Johnny, that's not the way to survive a horror movie."

"Really? Okay, how do you do it?"

The older paramedic grinned Johnny was listening way too intently for this conversation. Like a little kid wanting to hear a story. So he would give his junior partner one. "Well, I guess if you're alone, that would be the best idea, but there's a major flaw in that. Besides the fact that most walls are just plaster and wallpaper and if whatever's after you is superhuman, it could just got through them, if you back into a wall or corner, you're trapped. I mean, what if it's something you can't fight? You don't have an escape route. If you start to lose the fight, you're in trouble."

Johnny considered the possibility, wide-eyed. "So what do you do?"

Roy shrugged. "Well, let's go with here at the station. If something attacks here, what do we do?" Johnny didn't answer, so he went on. "Okay, I'll tell you. You get the spanner wrench and I'll get an axe. We stand back to back in the center of the room. Between the two of us, we can cover every angle and still have an opening to escape."

A smile crossed Johnny's face. "So, I watch your back, you watch mine?"

"Of course," stated Roy. "Why would that be any different than any other time?"

"That's good. That's real good, Roy. What about the others?"

"The others?"

"Well, yeah. If something attacks here, what will the other guys do? Cap and Mike and Chet and Marco?"

_In for a penny, in for a pound._ Roy shook his head. "Well, Mike would crawl into the smallest hole or cabinet he could find and not make a sound. The monster would never find him. Marco would be in a corner somewhere praying. Chet would panic and run around in circles until he knocked himself out running into a wall, and the monster wouldn't see him as a threat anymore. And Cap would probably sacrifice himself to give the rest of us time to hide or arm ourselves."

"You don't think Cap would survive?" Johnny's forehead creased into a frown.

"Do you really think Cap would run and hide knowing his men were in trouble?"

John considered that, then shook his head. "You're right. But maybe we could get armed in time to save him?"

Roy nodded. "Okay. Maybe he just got wounded before we got armed."

"And after we kill the monster, we get to save him?"

Roy smiled in earnest. "Yeah, Johnny, we kill the monster and save Cap. We better hit the sack."

He headed for the dorm room, glancing at Johnny out of the corner of his eye. The younger medic was looking over his shoulder, and generally looking a little paranoid. He shook his head with a grin. As they were settling into their beds, he said, "John?"

"Yeah?" His partner answered sleepily.

"How are you going to explain to Cap why you have a spanner wrench beside your bed?"

Johnny turned toward the wall, already half asleep. "I'll tell him it's to save his life."


	3. Why?

"We all see it. We all feel it. We just don't let anyone know." Medic 681, Clay County EMS

Silence had prevailed in the squad for the last ten minutes as they drove back to the station, each paramedic was lost in his own thoughts. Very dark thoughts. There had been nothing they could do for the patient, the woman had been dead for quite some time, and that was bad enough. But the shape that she was in…Johnny closed his eyes and leaned his forehead against the cool glass of the windshield for a moment, trying to block out the horrific crime scene from his mind. It didn't work. That left one option: talking it out with his partner. "Roy?"

"Yeah?"

"Do you ever wander why?"

"Why what?"

"…you know…just why?"

Roy sighed. He really, _really_ didn't want to have this conversation, and especially not with Johnny. Johnny was so young, so naïve, and most of the time seemed so innocent. Roy felt like he had lost his own innocence so long ago that he tried to protect that in Johnny, just like he did in his own son. But Johnny was no child, and no matter how much Roy wanted to protect him, he was a paramedic who had to deal with the horrors of the job. "There were a lot of 'why's back there, John. You're gonna have to be more specific."

Johnny shot him a look. Roy was being difficult, and it annoyed him. He didn't quite have the words for what he was trying to ask, so he paused to gather them. It never occurred to him that Roy might be stalling to put the words together too. "Why do people, well, you know… Why do people do the horrible things they do to other people?"

When Roy looked over to him, for a brief second, Johnny could see the real pain in his eyes, the pain that every paramedic keeps hidden when they see something that might still be there whenever they close their eyes. "Johnny, I can't answer that. If I had an answer to that, I'd fix it and the worst thing you and I would ever have to deal with is old people with the flu! People do things…horrible things…to other people, and most of the time there is no good reason. Sometimes there's not even a reason at all. I can't explain it to you. I can't even explain it to myself."

Johnny seemed if not satisfied with the answer, at least unwilling to argue. He nodded. "That was bad."

Roy nodded. "The worst you've seen?"

"Yeah." He paused on the sympathetic tone in his partner's voice. Roy wasn't supposed to feel sorry for him, this was just supposed to be a mutual purging of demons. Unless… "Not you?"

"No," said Roy firmly, making no move to elaborate. Johnny didn't push. If his friend had seen worse than what they had just encountered, he didn't think he wanted to know.

There was another brief period of silence, but Johnny just wasn't through it yet. "As a fireman, I saw dead people. Smelled them. And I endured it. I'm not weak, Roy."

Roy looked at him, surprised. Without a word, he whipped the squad to the side of the road. Time for a serious talk. He parked the truck, and turned to look his partner in the eye. Not expecting it, the younger medic's eyes were wide, alarmed, afraid he had done or said something wrong. "Johnny, no one ever said you were weak. No one even thought it. Why would you assume I thought that?"

Johnny broke the staring contest and looked at the floorboard. "Because this stuff still bothers me. More than just sometimes. People in pain, people who are maimed for life over someone else's stupidity or malice. How long do I have to feel it? How long until I get used to it?" _Like you_, the unspoken ending hung in the air, and Roy winced at the implication.

Roy put his hand on his partner's shoulder and waited until he looked back up. "You're a good medic. And if you're going to continue to be a good medic, you'll never 'get used to it'. You'll never stop hurting for those that are in pain, those who's lives are shattered. When you stop feeling that, you're no longer a good medic. Do you understand that?"

"But you-"

"But I what? Do you think I wasn't fighting with my stomach back there? That I didn't see Joann's face or Jennifer's face on that woman? That I can forget that some father, brother, husband or boyfriend just like us is going to get a life-changing phone call in the next few hours and they'll never be the same again? That I won't go home from here knowing that I'm lying to Chris when it's bedtime and I tell him there's no such thing as monsters?" He shook his head. "Johnny, if you think good paramedics, _strong_ paramedics, don't feel that pain anymore then I have let you down. I didn't give you the leadership that you needed, and I'm sorry. I still feel it every day, I just don't let it show. And any time you need to talk about it, Junior, do it! There's no need to suffer in silence. It'll eat at you, and you'll burn out quick. You really will stop feeling it, and believe me, that's a lot worse."

Johnny's eyes were wide as saucers, and Roy had a moment of panic. Had he misunderstood, and just scared the crap out his partner with this rant? "What's wrong?"

After a moment, his face broke into a tentative grin. "Thank God," he whispered, more to himself that Roy. "I thought I was the only one!"


	4. Real Trust

"Have I ever gotten you hurt? Well, hold on. There's a first time for everything!" Unit 615, Clay County EMS

"Roy?"

"Yeah, John?" He turned to look at his junior medic. Expressive brown eyes stared back at him, then looked away quickly, as if not wanting to show something, to give himself away.

"Why do you always drive?"

Roy grinned, then patted the steering wheel fondly. "I was here first?"

Johnny smirked. "Great. So I'm stuck in the passenger seat until we're riding around the old folks home in our wheelchairs?"

"Sure. And even then, you'll always ride on my right, just out of habit."

Johnny was quiet for a moment, and Roy thought that was the end of it, just a simple exchange to pass the time, but then he spoke up again. "So is that it? Habit?"

Roy turned the curve a little too sharply, and as he turned to face Johnny he saw the younger man wince and grip the door handle a little too tighter. "You're serious, aren't you? It bothers you that I always drive?"

Guilt flooded Johnny. He didn't want Roy to think he didn't trust him. "No! I mean- Well, a little… It's just…" He paused to put the words together in the least offensive way possible. "It just feels really helpless over here, you know? Anything in the world can happen to me over here and there's not a damn thing I can do about it."

"So, you want to put me through that instead?" Roy joked.

Johnny flushed, not realizing Roy was teasing. He had put off bringing this up for a long time, not wanting to hurt his friend's feelings, but this time it slipped out without his permission. "No, I just…" He dropped his head. "Never mind."

Roy tapped his partner on the arm, and waited until he looked back up from his lap. "Might as well say it as think it, Junior. Talk to me."

Johnny opened his mouth, and then closed it again, unable to find the words, so Roy stepped in for him. "This last run, I drove a little faster than usual. Not reckless, just a little faster, because Chet called for us and said the guy wasn't breathing. It got a little rougher in here than I would usually let it get." Johnny nodded. "And that made you a little…what? Nervous?"

"No, Roy, I-" He wasn't sure how he was going to finish it, so he was relieved when Roy held up a hand and cut him off.

"Johnny, I know you trust me. You know that I would never do anything to get either of us hurt. You know I very rarely give in to the rush of adrenaline while I'm driving, but I guess I must be going a little faster lately than I thought. Brice complained about it the other day."

Johnny's eyes got wide. "What did he say?" He said in a tone that very clearly said _"I'll kill him!"_

"Relax. He just pointed out that the phrase "Due regard" only protects us from getting a ticket and does not protect us in case of an accident. Of course, he said it in his typical superior "Brice" attitude."

"And you told him to cram it, right?"

The older medic grinned. "So you're the only one allowed to complain about my driving?"

"I wasn't-"

"I told him to put his seat belt on, hang on, close his eyes and shut up."

Johnny laughed heartily at that. He would have paid anything to have seen the look on the "perfect" paramedic's face when his calm, cool, composed partner told him that. That must have been priceless.

His partner smiling and for the moment content, Roy reflected back on what Johnny had said. Helpless. Roy knew the passenger seat was the most vulnerable place in a vehicle, most likely place for someone to be injured. He knew Johnny knew that, too. And he was right. From the passenger seat, there is absolutely nothing he could do to protect himself. He had never thought about the level of trust it required of his partner to sit there, literally trusting him with his life while he drove like a maniac. "John, did I scare you on that last run?"

Johnny thought about it for a moment. He trusted Roy completely. He knew that Roy would give his own life before he would do anything that would get him hurt, knew that it absolutely killed the older medic to watch him take the risks that came with the job, because he felt the same way about him. And while his stomach had hit his throat a time or two, there was never what he would qualify as fear. No weak-in-the-knees, I'm-gonna-die, life-flashing-before-my-eyes feeling. If he was going to be helpless and vulnerable, like riding in the passenger seat of a truck made by the lowest bidder going code 3, he'd rather it be with Roy than anyone else. It all came down to trust.

"Nah, you didn't scare me."

"Good," Roy said.

Johnny was looking out the window of the squad, deliberately looking away from Roy when he added, "I did have to close my eyes a time or two, though."


	5. All for One

"You mess with one of us, you mess with ALL of us!" Medic 635, Clay County EMS

Johnny was quiet all afternoon, way too quiet. It was agony for Roy, trying to decide whether to go to him and try to comfort him or to let him sort it out by himself. If he pushed, Johnny would either clam up or completely blow it off. Neither one would accomplish anything. But eventually, watching his friend suffer in silence got to be too much for him. Waiting until Johnny was alone in the bunk room, Roy sat down beside him on the bunk. "Talk to me, Junior. I know it was a rough run, but what about it is getting to you?"

Johnny thought back, his hand unconsciously touching to five stitches on his cheek. The intoxicated woman's purse had cut deep when she swung it at him on the scene. It hurt, but he could deal with pain. Fear, however… that was a bit different. "He's gonna come after me, Roy," he sighed, looking down. He would never admit to being afraid to anyone but his best friend, and even then it was embarrassing. "I mean, I'm not afraid of taking a beating, but this guy…"

Roy knew. The car wreck they had worked earlier had been a mess. A drunk woman who had clocked Johnny with her purse when he offered to help her out of the car had promptly been arrested. Not so bad in its self, but when her Goliath of a boyfriend got out of the passenger side and approached Johnny, that had been bad. He was…less than pleased that this fireman was getting his girl arrested. Grabbing Johnny by the shirt and lifting him off the ground, Johnny had called for help. Roy and three of the three LA county deputies on scene rushed to his aid. It was then that Johnny's nametag had popped off into the man's hand. The terrified fireman fell to the ground and his attacker fled. Despite the best efforts of the police, he had not been apprehended.

"I know, pal. He's a big guy."

Johnny covered his face with his hands. "And he has my name tag. He knows who I am. And he can find me. Really, how hard is it to find a fireman named John Gage. Two phone calls and he could track me down!"

Roy thought on this for a moment, but didn't allow the silence to stretch too long. If it did, the younger medic's imagination would run away with its self about what Roy was trying not to say. Roy had seen it before and preferred to avoid that. "No one is going to give out your home address. Just be careful leaving the station and make sure no one is following you. That deputy said he's going to keep an eye on you for a few days. They'll catch him."

Johnny finally looked up and nodded. "I know he can't get my home address. But all he has to do is ask around. We're the premier paramedic squad. Any firefighter out there could tell him what station I work at."

The senior medic's brow creased. "Johnny, you're not worried about him coming after you here…?"

Chocolate eyes met his blue ones. "Well, it would be the easiest place to find me."

Roy shook his head, trying to make sense of it. "You honestly think… John, you do know that no one here would let him get near you again, right? I mean, the only reason he got to you in the first place was that we didn't see the threat."

Confusion settled over Johnny's face. "You mean…?"

Anger darkened Roy's features. "I mean, bring it on. Let him come after you here! Let him take one step toward you in this place and see what's left of him after five pissed off firemen get their hands on him."

"Roy, I don't want anyone to get hurt. Not because of me."

Sometimes Johnny could be so dense. His partner wondered if it was on purpose, or if he really doubted his worth that much. "Not because of you. Because some drunk jackass blames you for his girlfriend's stupidity."

"But still…"

Roy put his hand on the young paramedic's shoulder forcefully. "No buts. Those two have done all the damage to you that they can. You're one of us. NO ONE is allowed to mess with you. Besides us, anyway."

Johnny's face split into his patented Gage grin at that and he play-punched Roy's shoulder. "Just you guys, huh?"

Pulling himself to his feet, Roy smiled back. "Yep. Just us. It would just be too much trouble if we had to beat Chet up every time he messed with you." He started back into the day room, relieved when Johnny followed. He looked less frightened, almost his old self again. _"I hope the bastard does come here,"_ Roy thought. _"I'd love to have a shot at him after this!"_ But he kept that to himself. Johnny didn't need to hear it.


	6. Why? part 2

"Stay strong. God will vindicate you." Medic 681 Clay County EMS

Author's note:This takes place during the episode "Rip-Off", after the police cleared them of the theft. This chapter is for Doc, for his unwavering support, prayers, advice, words of comfort, and for (metaphorically) knocking some sense into me when necessary. I'd never have survived all this without you.

Roy was still contemplating the fact that they were off the hook for the robbery. All the worry and terror of the last few days were receding, and the mental torture of simply _waiting_ to be hauled off to jail for the crime he didn't commit, Johnny beside him, was still sharp in his mind. He was angry, beyond angry, he was _livid._ But one glance at Johnny picked up a different vibe.

The look on Johnny's face was enough to shake the negative thought. The younger medic's expression held no anger or aggression, none of the need to throttle a punching bag that Roy felt overwhelming him. This was more confusion, resignation, acceptance… like he had brought this on himself. Not quite to the point of guilt (Johnny wore guilt clear enough to see from an aerial view), but still something a little more dangerous to the young man's psyche than anger. Roy quickly shoved aside his own negative feelings to draw Johnny's out. Roy's thoughts were dangerous to anyone who gave him half a reason. Johnny's on the other hand, were dangerous to Johnny himself.

"What's on your mind, John?" Roy asked with forced calmness. Keeping his anger from seeping into his voice took effort, but if he sounded angry, his partner would never talk about what was on his mind.

"Nothing much," he replied, making an attempt at sounding casual.

"_That'll be the day!"_ Roy thought. Johnny's mind ran at the speed of a freight train, with a dozen things swirling around in there, threatening to overwhelm him at any minute. That was why post-crisis discussions were so important with him. If his thoughts after a crisis ran amok, there was a very real risk that Johnny's head might explode. Roy was determined to avoid that if at all possible. "So, what's on your mind?"

"Nothing," he replied, a hint of something almost like irritation crept into his voice.

"Well," said Roy, "there's a lot on my mind. How about I talk, and if I get there on my own, you share?" Johnny shrugged, so he continued. "I'm very angry, way angrier than I'm comfortable with. After shift, I might go to the gym and take some of it out on a punching bag."

Johnny stared out the window. "I'm not angry."

Roy tried again. "I'm also drained. It was absolutely agonizing, knowing that any second they could come in and take us both to jail. I felt so helpless knowing how bad it looked for us." Johnny didn't respond, so he kept going. "I was scared of going to jail, and scared for you."

That got Johnny's attention. "Really?"

"Yeah. I know you hate being trapped, and if I was scared, you had to be terrified."

He shrugged again. "I was scared. I'm not now. Thanks, though. I was worried about you. With your family and all."

That was something, but it wasn't the heart of the issue. "I was afraid of losing my job, of not being able to be a fireman anymore."

Johnny winced slightly, imperceptibly if you weren't observing for a reaction, but Roy caught it. He was in the ballpark. "I mean, I've worked hard for this whole paramedic thing, you have too, and to lose it over something like this…" Okay, right church, wrong pew. Something about being a fireman… "Come on, Johnny. Just tell me."

He shook his head. "No."

Roy felt his anger flare up again, and he shoved it down since he knew it wasn't really because of Johnny. Instead, he tried the last-ditch effort, the one that would get what he wanted, even if it wasn't playing fair. "Please, partner?"

"That's low, Roy." He finally looked up, his resolve crumbling under his best friend's plea. His eyes met his friend's, and his walls snapped back up. "No!"

It was Roy's turn to sigh. "Ok. But can you at least tell me why not?"

Johnny bit his lip. "Because your opinion means a lot to me, Roy. I can stand the thought of going to jail easier than I can stand the thought of you thinking less of me."

Well, that was just silly, and he had to make sure his friend knew that. "Now listen to me. You are my best friend. I have seen you go into places no man should go, and do things that no man should ever be able to do. I have seen you violate the laws of physics to help someone, and I've seen you bawl like a baby when you couldn't. You're a good man, a good paramedic, and nothing you can tell me right now will make me respect you any less!"

Johnny considered it for a moment. "Why do people do it?"

Ok, not what he expected. "What? Steal? Accuse people without proof? I can't answer that. People do stupid things, hurtful things, without thinking of the consequences for others. It sucks, it hurts sometimes, but that's just the way it is. You know that."

Johnny opened his mouth to speak, then closed it again. He didn't know how to say what was bouncing around in his head. He knew that Roy might have the answer he needed, but how could Roy not think less of him for what he was thinking? Finally, he bit the bullet. He had to have an answer, or he wouldn't be able to do this anymore. "That's not what I mean, Roy. I mean us. Why do we do it? When people accuse us of stuff, talk to us like dogs, attack us, threaten us? Why do we keep trying to help people when people obviously don't want our help?" There, it was out. Roy would think he was an awful person, not want to be his partner anymore, maybe not even want him in fire services anymore. And maybe he would be right. He _was_ awful to think that…

Roy was silent for a second, trying to come up with a better answer. But he only had one. He hoped it was what Johnny needed. "Because some of them do, Johnny."

Silence greeted him from the other side of the squad as Johnny pondered his answer and Roy quietly panicked, worried that it might not be enough to keep his partner, his best friend, from making a bad decision. Finally, Johnny looked up, nodded once. Acceptance settled across his features. "Ok."

Roy smiled. "Ok? That's all the reason you needed?"

Johnny matched his grin. "I can't come up with a better one."


	7. Just how did this happen?

"Be careful on that ice. Because, let's face it... If one of us is going to fall and get hurt, it's going to be you!" Unit 643, Clay County EMS

"Why is it always me?" Johnny groaned, from the passenger seat of the squad. He fought back a pained whimper as a pothole in the road jarred him. "What was that, Roy?" he asked pitifully, cradling his broken and splinted left arm. "My punishment for not riding in the ambulance?"

Roy winced, sorry for causing his friend pain but unable to help it. "I'm sorry. You know I'm not trying to punish you. But you should have ridden in the ambulance. You could be badly injured, and should be lying flat. In fact, you should be in full spinal precautions!"

Johnny made a face. "It's not that bad. Broken arm. Couple of –ah!- broken ribs. A few scrapes. No need for an ambulance, and certainly no need for a spine board. All I did was-"

Roy smirked and cut him off. "Yeah, just how did you manage that, John? Last thing I saw, you were going to get a splint and then you were screaming."

"I was not screaming!" Johnny protested vehemently, hissing as the attempt to draw air into his lungs sent flames shooting down the left side of his chest. "Yelling, maybe. Yeah. Yelling in agony. I fell down two flights of stairs, bounced onto the concrete floor. You would have yelled. Point of fact, you would have screamed." The self-satisfied look on his face faltered as they hit another bump in the road, and he gasped sharply. This one was a little bigger, and pain engulfed him.

Roy's face twisted in sympathetic pain. "I'm sorry. I'm taking it as easy as I can. You know how this road is." Johnny nodded, and looked away so Roy wouldn't see how much the simple motion hurt him. There was nothing that tore the older medic up more than causing someone pain, and his best friend was at the top of the list of those he couldn't stand to see in pain. "If you want to stop, I can call Rampart and see if I can get you some morphine…"

"That's okay," Johnny said. "Just get me there, as easily as possible." He slumped his head against the back of the seat and closed his eyes.

"So," Roy went on, trying to distract his junior partner from his injuries. "What caused you to fall this time? Going for the record? They don't give a purple heart for firemen, you know…"

Johnny groaned. "It was that stupid dog, Roy. If you can even call that thing a dog. It was more like a barking rat. One lousy piece of cheese could have prevented all this!"

Roy grinned, remembering the tiny Chihuahua that didn't seem to get the memo that it wasn't a Doberman. It had growled and snarled at them as they had gone inside the apartment, despite the constant shushing from its owner. "So what did Cujo do to you? Bite your toe?"

Johnny seemed to consider whether or not to answer, and Roy took an intuitive leap. "Come on. I swear I'll never breathe a word. What happened?"

Johnny looked at him, searching for sincerity. "Okay, but if Chet gets ahold of this one, I'll know it was you." Roy nodded for him to go ahead. "I was headed for the stairs, and I heard the little rat yapping behind me. The next thing I know, something's got ahold of my boot laces. I tried to shake it loose, and lost my balance."

It was a bad idea to laugh, Roy knew it, but his attempt at smothering it yielded a weird choking sound that made Johnny actually crack a smile. "Yeah, yeah… Laugh it up. Make fun of your partner when he's hurting."

That crack smarted a little, even though he knew Johnny was teasing. "I wish I could make this ride a little smoother, Junior."

Johnny forced a grin for his partner's benefit. "I know."

After almost twenty minutes of torture, driving on uneven roads toward Rampart, each bump and pothole jarring Johnny's shattered arm and his broken ribs, they arrived at Rampart. Every whimper that escaped the younger medic's attempts at control tore at Roy's guts, which was as much a reason for Johnny to try to keep quiet as his pride. He knew how badly it affected Roy when people he cared about were in pain. They pulled into the ER lot, and Johnny looked at the door, dreading moving. Roy saw it in his eyes. "Wheelchair?" He offered.

With nothing more than a withering glance, Johnny opened the squad door so Roy had to rush around to help him stand on unsteady legs. "How about you let me help you?"

A ghost of a smirk crossed Johnny's face. "Well, if you insist…"

Roy slipped under his partner's uninjured right arm and placed his hand near Johnny's armpit, well above the painful mess of his mangled ribs lower on that side. Together, they slowly made their way inside. "Doc!" Roy yelled as Dr. Brackett came out of a room down the hall. "Got a place to put Johnny?"

Brackett took in the splinted arm, the guarding of his ribs, the bruises on his face, and the slight trickle of blood dried in front of his right ear. And the almost sheepish look on his face. "Okay, which of you wants to explain this one?"

Roy shook his head with a grin. "I'm not touching this one."

Johnny moaned, though not from pain this time. "Why is it _always_ me?"


	8. Boom!

"That's why they call us firemen instead of firefighters!" Unit 432 Manchester Fire Department

"Roy, you know this is probably not the best idea, right?" Johnny asked nervously. "I mean, messing with Chet or Marco is one thing, but Cap…? Are you sure?"

Roy looked up from the knife and the small capsule in his hands. "Of course I'm sure. Trust me."

Johnny nodded. "Ok. It's just that, this doesn't seem like a good idea. Not even in the top one hundred best ideas. If we're caught, we're on latrine duty until we retire. If we're lucky. Cap could come up with something particularly sadistic over this."

"We're not gonna get caught. Hand me that piece of aluminum foil."

Johnny watched as Roy had stripped the paper off a smelling salt capsule and placed it on the shiny piece of metal. "Ok." He still looked somewhat uneasy, so Roy set aside his project and looked at Johnny.

"Look, you're the one who said you couldn't handle another shift with Chet on your back. You asked me for help. I'm helping. Give me the toilet paper and alcohol."

Johnny handed him the requested items, and nodded. "Okay. But I don't get it. How is this going to get Chet to leave me alone?"

Roy carefully wrapped the capsule in the toilet paper, then soaked the whole thing with alcohol, and answered Johnny in the tone of a parent answering a child's questions about adult things. "You will go outside and start hanging hoses. Get yourself all wet and your t-shirt dirty, look like you've been hard at it. I'll be out there as soon as I light this. We'll have about 2 minutes before it explodes. You'll look like you've been there the whole time, and really, who's going to suspect me of blowing something up outside Cap's office." The devious grin looked so out of place on Roy's face that Johnny had to smile as well.

"So they'll assume it was Chet…" Johnny said, figuring it out. "That's great, Roy! But, those ampoules are glass. What if it leaves glass shards? Someone could get hurt." His smile faded. Pranks were one thing, but leaving glass laying around was another thing altogether…

Roy shook his head "Nope. The burning alcohol heats the ammonia and the pressure inside the capsule gets so high that the glass completely disintegrates. That's why it goes boom."

Johnny laughed. "Great! Sounds good, partner."

Roy finished making his makeshift explosive device, holding it proudly in the aluminum foil. "Then go."

"You sure you don't want me to take it in there? I mean, if you get caught…?"

"That's okay," said Roy. "You need an alibi. But like I said, who's going to suspect me?"

Johnny hurried off, unbuttoning his uniform shirt as he went. A few minutes later, Roy saw him out there hanging hoses. When he sprayed himself down with one, Roy knew it was time. He carried the piece of aluminum foil with the ammonia bomb to outside Cap's office door. The foil would keep the small flame from leaving a mark on the floor, the glass would be disintegrated, no harm, no foul. It would scare Cap enough to make him mad, and he would automatically believe it was Chet, A.K.A. The Phantom. He would go off on Chet, and Chet would be off Johnny's case for a while.

Sure, it wasn't something Roy would usually do, but The Phantom had been pretty rough on Johnny recently. Really rough. Johnny had run out of clean uniforms last shift, and had to take 2 runs covered in flour while he waited for his other one to dry. That was just mean. Johnny had asked him for help, and he was never going to turn down a plea to help the helpless. He set the package down in front of Cap's door, lit the toilet paper. Then he hurried off to establish his alibi with Johnny.

Water dripped off Johnny's arms and face, and dirt was smeared on his t-shirt. He looked like he had been hanging hoses for an hour. Roy was much cleaner, but he was always more careful than Johnny. He could get away with it.

"How much time do we have?" Johnny asked conversationally, trying to hide his hidden nervousness. He had pulled stunts before, but this was on Cap. This was different. Scary.

Roy did some quick calculations. "About a minute."

Time seemed to slow down. Johnny had a bad feeling about this. Finally, after what felt like forever, a loud BOOM! sounded from inside the station, followed by muffled yelling. A moment later, Mike, Marco, and Chet fled into the yard. A few moments after than, Cap strolled casually outside, and faced his five men. "What happened, Cap?" Roy asked casually. "I though I heard something fall, but Johnny was with me. Everyone ok?"

"Hey!" exclaimed Johnny, realizing what Roy had said.

Cap held up the charred sheet of foil. "Chet, care to explain?"

The mustached man shook his head violently. "I don't know what happened, Cap, I swear. I just heard the bang and ran for my life!"

Johnny smirked. "Some fireman!"

Chet opened his mouth to say something, but caught the look his captain shot him and closed it again. "I swear, Cap, it wasn't me!"

Hank looked at the young man. "Marco and Mike were in the kitchen working on dinner. Johnny has been out here hanging hose with Roy. That leaves you."

Chet looked at Roy. "He doesn't look like he's been working too hard, Cap. Maybe Roy did it and ran outside."

"Roy?" Johnny asked. "You think Roy set off a bomb outside Cap's office door? You think Roy doesn't have more… self-preservation… than that?"

Cap nodded. "He's right. You can't lay this one off on Roy, and I'm surprised you'd even try. You're on latrine duty for the rest of the month. And if the Phantom even peeps into my station again in that time, it'll be the rest of the year. Now, is dinner ready, Mike?"

"Yes, Cap," Mie answered.

"Ok, then let's go eat. And for crying out loud, Johnny, go shower. You look like you've been rolling on the ground with the hoses rather than hanging them!"


	9. Sometimes the Job Sucks

Author's Note: WARNING!!!!! Disturbing subject matter. Very disturbing. As usual, I'm dealing with my own paramedic issues by using Johnny and Roy, exorcising my own considerable demons. I recently had a very traumatic run, and might not have gotten through it with both my career and my sanity intact if it hadn't been for some of my closest friends. Doc and Ray as usual kept me from doing something stupid like walking off the job, and Emom and Nyxlestia for helping me deal with the aftermath. Thanks so much to all of you. This is for you.

Roy stood in the doorway of the bay watching Johnny helplessly. The younger medic's shoulders shook with his sobs, and Roy was torn. Did Johnny want to be alone? Was this the time to step in and give some 'fatherly' advice like a TV movie or something? And what advice could he possibly give? An hour ago, John Gage had held a dead infant in his arms, a baby that had been gone too long for them to help. He had to look a grieving young mother in the face and tell her he was sorry, there was nothing they could do. What could Roy possibly say to ease that pain even a little?

So he stood there in the doorway, watching his partner and friend's heart break, knowing there was nothing he could do, knowing that all he could say was "It's part of the job" or something equally cold and heartless. He had no idea how long indecision held him there, but he was shaken out of his reverie when Johnny said, without looking up, "Come sit down, Roy. You've been standing there forever."

Roy sat down beside Johnny on the bumper of the squad. "I was trying to decide whether to come give some advice or let you try to work it out on your own."

Johnny still hadn't looked up from the spot on the concrete floor. "And so you decided to just study me and see how I handled things?" There was no venom in his voice, only pain and exhaustion.

"You know better than that," Roy replied, sounding equally drained. The silence dragged on, and Roy felt the need to explain himself. "There's nothing I can say to make it easier. And there's a lot that I could say that could make it worse."

Johnny acknowledged that with a nod, and the silence overtook them again. Finally, Johnny looked over at him. "How many times?"

"How many times what?"

Johnny's eyes were unreadable. "How many times have you done that? Have you looked into a crying mother's eyes and told her 'I'm sorry, with all my training and fancy equipment, I couldn't bring your baby back to you?' Held a lifeless infant in your arms, knowing it was hopeless? And more importantly, how in the hell do you come back to work the next day?"

Roy's stomach turned in his stomach, but before he could answer, Johnny continued. "Did you see her Roy? She was so tiny and just looked like one of those dolls Jennifer carries around. That's how I got through it, Roy. I chanted in my head the whole time 'It's not a baby, it's just a doll'. I guess that makes me weak." He dropped his head again.

There was no way to even respond to that. Even if he denied it, Johnny wouldn't believe it. It would seem too automatic. Instead he simply stated, "Once. Once before today."

Johnny's eyes widened. He had assumed that Roy, having been in the fire department longer, and focusing on the medical aspects long before there was such a thing as a paramedic, was a seasoned veteran at this. It hadn't occurred to him that he was as inexperienced at dealing with such horrors as anyone.

Roy continued. "It was a little boy, about 2 years ago. Almost the same thing, mom and dad woke up and found the baby that way. Too late to do anything." He paused, his own eyes misting over in the memories. Except that I wasn't the one to tell the mother it was too late."

"You're partner?"

The older medic shook his head. "No. The ER doctor at Mount Vernon."

Johnny gasped. "You worked him?! I thought you said it was too late?"

Now it was Roy's turn to look at the ground. "You're not weak, John. I was, but you weren't. You saw it for what it was, and were strong enough to admit that."

In that instant, it turned around. Johnny put a hand on his partner's shoulder. "Roy…"

"Yeah, I know. Sometimes our jobs suck." Johnny nodded, and Roy continued. "I've been a fireman for going on ten years, and that's all you can say about it."

Johnny looked away. "I don't think I'll make it to five."

Roy looked up sharply. "Don't say that. You can't just walk away from it."

"Why not? There's a lot of jobs out there, even ones that pay better. Jobs that you can even sleep at night after every shift." He dropped his face in his hands.

It was Roy's turn to put a hand on Johnny's shoulder. The young man looked up with tears in his eyes, and Roy knew it would be a long time before either of them got a good nights sleep. "Yeah, Johnny, I know there are. But you couldn't help this one and that feels like hell. If you quit, you absolutely can't help the next one. Just because you walk away doesn't mean that bad things aren't going to happen. People are still going to get sick. Babies are still going to die. And you know about that. You can't go back and not know that now. And you can't not do anything about it." Roy realized he was rambling, but it didn't really matter. Johnny got the point, and he got to let out a little steam.

Johnny nodded slowly. "You're right. I can't _not _try to help people. It's just… not me." They sat in silence again, saying more in that than they had with their words. Johnny looked over at him. "Roy?"

"Yeah?"

"What do we do now? How do I close my eyes and not see her face?"

Roy shrugged. "I don't have an answer for you, Junior. There's no magic word to make it not hurt. I wish I did." He stood up and straightened his badge. Johnny pulled himself to his feet behind him and they headed for the bunk room. The rest of the crew was already asleep, so they slipped into their beds quietly.

Roy had just closed his eyes when he heard Johnny whisper. "Roy?"

"Yeah, Johnny?"

Brown eyes bore into his in the darkness. "If you find one, you'll let me know?"

"What?"

"An answer. Or a magic word."

Roy smiled. His friend would be alright. Not at the moment, but eventually he would be okay. "You'll be the first to know."


	10. Nightmares

"We see these things, and sometimes they hurt badly. But it's part of the job. It's just what we do." Medical Director, CCEMS

Johnny woke up with a start at the sound of the soft cry. In less than a second, he determined in his sleep-addled brain three things: It was either very late or very early, he was in his bunk at the station, and the man in the next bunk was the one making the noise. Before the next second passed, he was on his knees beside his partner's bed. "Roy! Roy, wake up!"

Roy thrashed under the thin sheet, and tears slid down his face. He wasn't waking up as easily as Johnny had hoped, so he was going to have to physically wake him. That was always a risk when someone was in a nightmare. If they were fighting something, you were likely to wind up with a black eye. But right now, something horrific had a hold on his best friend's brain, and if it cost him a black eye to get him out of it, he was more than willing to take a punch. Gripping Roy's shoulders with both his hands, Johnny pulled him into a sitting position. "Roy! Wake up! It's just a dream!"

Instead of pulling away or taking a swing at Johnny, Roy slumped onto his shoulder and started sobbing. Johnny wasn't sure what to say or do now. He had been prepared to take an attack or see Roy startle awake. This was bad. Whatever was going on in Roy's head was breaking his heart. He had seen his friend cry, but this hopeless sobbing was both new and heartbreaking.

The rest of the crew was awake now, and gathering around their little alcove. Johnny looked up at Cap helplessly. Nightmares were a pretty common thing around a fire station, but usually fear was the most overwhelming emotion. This… All Cap knew was that the rest of the guys didn't need to watch. He herded them through the door into the kitchen. "If you need help, we're right out here," He told Johnny, shutting the door.

Starting to get frightened now, Johnny pulled Roy up from his shoulder and looked at him. His face was red and swollen from crying, but Johnny could tell that he wasn't quite awake. "Roy, it's me. It's Johnny. Wake up and talk to me! Whatever it is, it's over now. You're safe!" Roy looked at him now, still not awake, but at least Johnny had his attention. "Roy, it's Johnny and you're here at Station 51 and you're safe and you got a whole station full of guys you're scaring the crap out of right now and you're safe!"

Finally, comprehension dawned in the clear blue eyes, but they still bore so much pain and uncertainty. "Johnny?"

A relieved grin split onto Johnny's face. "Yeah, Roy. It's me. I'm here. Uh… are you here now, too?"

Roy looked around, as if looking for confirmation of something. Then his eyes fell on the bloody turnout gear in the box to be cleaned, and the force of his nightmare hit him full force. The color drained from his face and his voice broke. "Oh, God… Chris!"

Ok, now that wasn't what Johnny was expecting. "Chris? What about him?"

"He's…"

Roy couldn't make himself say it, but Johnny got it. His heart shredded as he realized what Roy had dreamed. The car wreck they had worked this afternoon, the fatality, the child's coat they had found and the terrifying moments when they had thought there might be a child in the mangled mess. There had been no way to tell, as there had been no way at the time to tell if the driver was male or female. Johnny shook him, trying to clear his friend's mind. "Chris is fine! He's alive and safe and asleep and having way better dreams than his daddy."

Roy pointed to the corner. "But there's his blood!"

Johnny shook his head. "Not his, Roy. Not your son's blood. Do you understand me? It was just a dream. Chris is fine."

Finally, Roy seemed to get his bearings. "Chris is ok?"

"He's fine. Nothing happened to him. We worked a bad car wreck this afternoon and a person died. But your son is just fine. I promise. You know I wouldn't lie to you, right?"

Roy nodded slowly. He remembered the car wreck. He remembered the child's jacket. But the boy it belonged to was fine and so was Chris. Slightly embarrassed, he quickly wiped the tears from his eyes. "Yeah. Bad dream. Sorry I woke you up."

Johnny shook his head. "You know better than to apologize for that." They were silent for a beat, then Johnny asked, "You wanna talk about it?" Roy gathered his thoughts and looked around at the empty beds. "They all went to the kitchen. It's just you and me. Talk to me here."

Roy nodded, and his voice broke again at the remembered pain. "We had to do a closed casket…"

Johnny's gut twisted at that statement. "Oh, Roy… man, I'm sorry. Even in a dream, a man should never have to go through that." He studied his partner, then stood up. Roy was awake, calm, and no longer crying, but his face was taut with pain as he fought valiantly to get the image of the small casket out of his mind. His son was fine. But he still had in his mind a picture of the casket. Of the gravestone. Of the crash. And the blood. Chris was fine, but was he? Really?

"Roy, got your pants on. I'll be right back." Johnny headed for the door, pausing only to shove the box with the bloody turnout gear into the bathroom. It would go to the cleaners in the morning, but Roy didn't need to see them again tonight. He ignored Roy's inquiry of why he needed his pants and went into the kitchen.

"Is he okay?" asked Mike as Johnny pulled the door shut behind him.

Four concerned faces turned to Johnny as his station mates worried about Roy. "He's okay now. But I think it was probably about the worst nightmare he could possibly have. Cap, me and Roy are going to go for a ride, with your permission."

"Where are you going?"

Johnny's face couldn't help but twist in sympathy with his friend's pain. "To Roy's house. Let him see his son, maybe hold him for a minute. Then maybe… a distant maybe… He'll be able to sleep again."


	11. Name That Fruit

"I don't care if you can pronounce it or not! Just eat it!" Unit 631, Clay County EMS

(A/N: Yes. We really are this weird...)

"But Roy, it just doesn't make sense!"

Roy shook his head in exasperation. Johnny was a good paramedic, an excellent person, the best friend a guy could ask for. But sometimes he could be just plain weird. Really… who gets hung up on things like that?

"The guy who discovered them or bred them or whatever they were done with first decided to call them that! Not what I would have picked, but hardly something to obsess about for half an hour."

"But Roy-"

Johnny was cut off by Chet's voice as they entered the fire station, bags of groceries in their arms. "What's he going on about this time?"

Johnny glared at him, but didn't respond until he had put the bags down on the table. Roy just rolled his eyes as his partner fished around in the bag and found the small, furry fruit that had caused all the commotion. He held it aloft for the entire shift to see.

"So it's a kiwi," said Marco. "So what?" He reached to snatch it from Johnny's hand, but Johnny was too quick.

"Ah, ah, ah!" he said, shaking his finger at Marco. "If you don't even know what it is, you certainly can't have it!"

Marco looked at him like he had possibly lost his mind, and made another grab for it, which nearly ended in a wrestling match until Cap stepped in. "Gage, it's a kiwi. Did you loose your marbles somewhere between here and the grocery store?"

While he was distracted, Roy grabbed it. "No, Cap, he knows what he's talking about."

Cap held out his hand, and Roy gave him the kiwi. He examined it carefully, poked at it a few times, peeled it, then took a bite. "Gentlemen, this is a kiwi. Unless someone can explain this, I'm forced to conclude that both my paramedics have lost their minds."

"That, my dear captain," Johnny said, gesturing to the half-eaten fruit in Henry's hand, "is officially known as a 'kiwifruit'. One word. Which makes no sense, as I was just trying to tell Roy."

Mike chuckled. "Johnny's right. I saw the sign at a fruit stand the other day."

"What do you mean it makes no sense?" asked Chet. "It's a kiwi, and a kiwi is a fruit. So, it's a kiwifruit."

"But that's ridiculous!" Johnny argued. "You don't say an 'applefruit' or a 'bananafruit' or an 'orangefruit'. Except maybe that last one would make sense…"

Roy groaned, knowing where this was going. "Yeah, an 'orangefruit' would make sense because it's a description. Like an "orange fruit". Because, really, what kind of a name is 'orange' anyway? I mean, did someone just walk along and say yeah, I want two apples and a kiwifruit… and one of those orange things over there?" He grinned his patented Gage grin, and picked up two oranges out of the bag to start juggling. "These could be 'orangefruits'. And we could call the apples 'redfruits'."

"But what about cranberries?" asked Chet. "Or strawberries?"

Roy rolled his eyes again. Sometimes being the sane on was trying… "Or green apples?"

Before Johnny could answer, Cap grabbed an orange out of the air, startling Johnny into dropping the second one. With his free hand, he picked up an apple. "Listen up. This is an orange. Just an orange. And this is an apple. You got it? We have plenty enough to do without renaming fruit. Everyone with me?"

There were several nods and a chorus of "Yes, sir"s. Finally Johnny spoke up. "But, Cap, what about the kiwi?"

Henry shrugged. "Did you get more than one?" Johnny shook his head. "Then it doesn't matter. I already ate it."


	12. Dream Come True

Author's note: I'm officially declaring this story finished, just because this seemed like a good place to end it. Of course, that doesn't mean it really is. If I encounter something with my crew that has to be shared, I will. Or maybe make it a sequal. Anyway, For now, this is the end. There are a lot of references in fics about Johnny being abused as a child, and it kinda helped with this part, so I went with it. This makes more sense if you accept that as a fact. Please review:)

"You're the hero, you're not a sadist. It's not the same." Medical Director, CCEMS

Johnny was nowhere to be found, which while not normally a good thing as far as Roy was concerned it generally wasn't cause for alarm. However, they were three-quarters of the way through a nightmare of a shift, had had one rough call after another, missed lunch and were a couple hours late for dinner, and now it was four in the morning, and Johnny was missing. That was cause for alarm. It meant that either Johnny was hurt and trying to hide it, or that he was somewhere having an emotional freak-out over the shift thus far.

The critically injured seven-year-old girl would definitely be cause for said breakdown, without even considering the welfare check they had done with the police on a woman that hadn't been seen in several days. Those never ended well… or that hiker with the badly broken leg that they had to send on a helicopter from the canyon who's knee would never be the same. On a good day, any one of those would be enough to send Johnny into an emotional tailspin (Not that he would let anyone see on purpose, hence the disappearing act). And this had not been a good day.

Just in case, Roy check the bathroom, the kitchen, and the day room for his partner. No Johnny. He sighed. That left one place…

Sure enough, he found Johnny sitting up on the back of the squad. It was his favorite place to sit and think when he needed to. Without hesitating or asking for permission, he climbed up and sat beside him. His face looked relaxed, his eyes weren't puffy or swollen, and he didn't look to be in any distress, but Roy wouldn't be lulled into complacency that easily. The two sat side by side on the top of the squad in silence for several moments before Johnny spoke.

"Ya know, Roy… Even with all the crap that happens, all the close calls, the bloody messes, and the sleepless night, even when I'm ready to give up, we still have the best job in the world."

Okay, Roy was expecting tears. He was expecting to hear about how crappy it was that the little girl might die or that the man might never walk without a limp or that no one noticed that woman was missing for almost a week. Or that sometimes they were expected to be more than any human. This was a little weird. "Think so?" he asked neutrally. If Johnny was in Pollyanna mode, he wasn't about to say anything that might shift things in a worse direction.

Johnny smiled, more of a far away look than his usual mega-watt Gage grin. "Yeah. You know how many little boys out there can't wait to sit where we are right now?"

Roy couldn't help but grin at that. He knew of one at his very own house. "I have some idea…"

Johnny ran his hand almost absently along the chrome rail of the squad. "Little boys grow up dreaming about this. I know I did. Did you, Roy?"

Roy shrugged. "Yeah. Among other things. Little boys have lots of dreams. I wanted to be the first one to go to Mars, too."

Chuckling at the idea of Roy in an astronaut's suit, Johnny shook his head. "Not me. All I ever wanted was this. To be a fireman. I wanted to help people, people who really needed help and might not get it because the doctors couldn't get to them or they were trapped and couldn't get out. That was what I dreamed about."

If Roy thought that was a little sad, he didn't comment. "And now you're here."

Johnny nodded. "Now I'm here." He looked away, and Roy finally got where the trace of sadness in his voice was coming from. "Roy, I know you know a little about my childhood, enough to know that it wasn't exactly the Cleavers, ya know."

Roy nodded. From what little Johnny had told him, he knew that was quite the understatement, and he internally cringed whenever he thought about the origin of some of his friend's multiple scars. "I know, John. You had a rough time."

"I'm past that, though," he added quickly, hearing the distraught tone in Roy's voice. He never talked about this because he didn't want that pity for the person he had been a lifetime ago, but it was important now. Roy wouldn't let it go until he knew what was on Johnny's mind, and he didn't want his best friend to think he was an awful person. "What happened to me isn't a part of this anymore. Just, know that when I was a kid, when things got bad, I always pictured myself sitting on the back of a fire truck, all grown up. A hero, rescuing people. Helping those that couldn't help themselves. Rescuing people that no one else could."

Roy's heart clenched at the tone, even though he wasn't sure where this was going. "That's what you did today, Johnny. No one else could have squeezed into that crushed mess of a car to get that little girl out." He didn't point out what they both knew, that it might be a moot point, that the girl might not make it.

Johnny grinned. "Yeah. I did. Now here I am sitting on the back of a fire truck, just like I always dreamed of. And man, it feels really good. I love it. I love this job, Roy." He touched the patch on his jacket, fingers ghosting over the embroidered numbers. "It's a dream come true."

"So what's the problem then?" Roy had tried to follow what had his friend upset enough to be sitting here at four in the morning, but was seriously failing. "I don't get it."

Johnny smirked, then pushed himself up on the rail to turn, facing Roy. "That little girl probably won't make it. That man will never hike again. And no one found that woman for almost a week. One life changed forever, at least one and probably two ended. And you know what, Roy? I'm having a good day. I'm happy, loving what I do completely. What kind of sick freak does that make me? I'm enjoying myself, when people's lives are being devastated around me! That's sick, Roy. I'm messed up in the head somehow!"

Roy sighed. He put his hand on Johnny's shoulder, trying to absorb some of the confusion and fear from him. "No, Johnny, you're not. You're just a fireman."


End file.
